Chapter 11

Regardless of what the world’s identity was, Namgung Woo still had unresolved questions.

“Does the martial world really follow the imperial family’s orders just because they say so?”

As mentioned before, the relationship between the government and the martial world, as perceived by Namgung Woo, was closer to mutual non-aggression, treating each other as if they didn’t exist. For both the imperial family and the martial world, the cost of getting deeply involved was not insignificant.

Frankly, if a peerless master from the martial world decided to assassinate the emperor, the cost to stop him would be no small matter.

In response to Namgung Woo’s question, Pyeong Choyul instead asked a counter-question.

“Do you know how the Nine Sects and One Gang were formed?”

“How… isn’t it just a term used by the people to refer to the renowned sects of the Orthodox Martial World?”

Was there any particular intention involved in that process?

Namgung Woo made a puzzled expression, clearly not understanding. Seeing this, Pyeong Choyul lowered his voice.

“Those who received support in exchange for cooperation with the imperial family were collectively called the Nine Sects and One Gang.”

“Cooperation, you say?”

“Before the Ming Dynasty was established. When the Yuan Dynasty ruled this land, Shaolin helped Emperor Hongwu resist the Yuan. When the Sui Dynasty fell, Shaolin also helped Li Shimin of the Tang Dynasty. It’s nothing new. Anyway, Emperor Hongwu compared himself to Li Shimin of the Tang Dynasty, finding some amusement in the help he received from Shaolin.”

Familiar names came up one after another for Namgung Woo.

Emperor Hongwu, who founded the Ming Dynasty, was Zhu Yuanzhang, and Li Shimin of the Tang Dynasty was famous for losing an eye in the war against Goguryeo.

“Emperor Yongle, who succeeded him, followed his father’s example and sought to supplement his lack of legitimacy through religion. That’s Wudang Sect.”

Emperor Yongle ascended the throne through a coup, pushing aside his nephew. This is known as the Jingnan Campaign.

Around the same time, in a neighboring country, an uncle also pushed aside his nephew to take the throne—the famous Sejo of Joseon’s Gye Yu Jeongnan.

Back to the topic.

Emperor Hongwu, Zhu Yuanzhang, who supported Shaolin.

Emperor Yongle, Zhu Di, who supported Wudang.

The two major sects of the Orthodox Martial World, known as the North Star of Mount Tai, grew with imperial support—a story quite uncomfortable for martial artists to hear.

But who wouldn’t want their own sect to flourish and gain fame? Watching the two sects grow smoothly under imperial support, other sects couldn’t just sit still.

“They also sought out the imperial family. Thus, seven more sects and one gang were added to receive imperial favor.”

And so, the Nine Sects and One Gang were formed.

In exchange for imperial support, they were tasked with protecting the common people from those who practiced heretical martial arts, becoming the foundation of the Orthodox Martial World.

“Of course, later on, a few more sects were included in the imperial support, and the composition of the Nine Sects changed several times due to various events in the martial world.”

“So that’s the hidden history.”

“Haha, it’s not much of a hidden history. It’s something everyone knows openly. But you’re also right. The martial world is composed of the people of the Ming Dynasty, but it’s not a group that swears loyalty to the emperor.”

However, if the imperial family intervenes to end the Jeongsa Great War, it’s only natural they would support the Orthodox sects they had a cooperative relationship with.

The unorthodox sects announced their intention to end the war the moment the imperial family showed signs of intervention.

“Since the unorthodox sects started the war, the Orthodox Martial World was furious, but there was no other way. The Black Martial Alliance cleverly seized the moral high ground, so the Orthodox sects eventually agreed to end the war.”

“A kind of diplomatic truce.”

“That’s also correct.”

Pyeong Choyul shrugged, subtly hinting there were other reasons as well.

Namgung Woo wanted to ask more deeply, but Pyeong Choyul didn’t seem inclined to elaborate.

“We’ll soon arrive at Gohyeon. Let’s get ready.”

§

After staying a night in Gohyeon, located right next to Imbun County, the journey continued.

Namgung Woo wanted to talk more with Pyeong Choyul but couldn’t. Unlike Namgung Woo, who stayed quietly as a guest, Pyeong Choyul, as the leader of this journey, had many things to do.

So, Namgung Woo was quite pleased to get back on the carriage.

He had thought he would uncover all the secrets of the Jeongsa Great War and the tragic history of the Namgung Family’s destruction, but this time, Pyeong Choyul brought up the topic first.

“Is this your first time on such a journey?”

“Yes, it is.”

“If the martial world most shuns the imperial family, do you know what is most avoided on such journeys?”

It was a somewhat abrupt question. But Namgung Woo, having understood Pyeong Choyul’s nature through past experiences, calmly answered without panic.

“Bandits, right?”

At that, Pyeong Choyul widened his eyes as if he had heard something strange, then burst out laughing.

“Bandits? Hahaha, of course, they are an unavoidable obstacle on such journeys, but they’re not that scary. Bandits have to watch out for the government troops. A suitable toll can get you through.”

Namgung Woo’s brow furrowed. Not because he was in a bad mood, but because something didn’t quite align with his thoughts.

‘Isn’t it usually the opposite?’

There’s a saying that people are the scariest.

But Pyeong Choyul’s reaction was the exact opposite.

“People are the scariest, huh? Well, there’s that saying. But at least with people, you can communicate, right? Since we’re all human.”

“Sounds like you’re implying non-humans are even scarier.”

“Yes. Exactly. They are even more fearsome because they’re not human.”

Just as Namgung Woo realized he was about to face another unfamiliar aspect of this world, another interruption came.

“Leader. Up ahead…”

“Ah, bandits? It’s about time they showed up. I’ll handle it.”

From the moment they entered the Taihang Mountain Range, the natural boundary between Shanxi and North Zhili, it was expected that bandits would appear.

Honestly, Pyeong Choyul wasn’t sure if calling them bandits was accurate, but since everyone called them that, he went along with it.

Pyeong Choyul prepared to step out of the carriage.

“Brother, I’ll be back shortly.”

“I’ll come too. If it’s bandits, you’ll need an escort.”

“Ah, no need. That might provoke them. If you’re uncomfortable staying in the carriage, you can watch from outside.”

As if to prove his earlier point that bandits weren’t particularly feared on such journeys, Pyeong Choyul confidently stepped out alone.

Namgung Woo’s eyes told him that Pyeong Choyul also practiced martial arts. But his skill wasn’t particularly impressive—less than Song Chaeji, who was five or six years younger.

Yet, Pyeong Choyul, without any escort, talked with the bandits blocking the road and returned unharmed.

“This is troublesome.”

“Bandits after all…?”

“No, not that.”

Namgung Woo had a bit of hope that his guess was right, but it was firmly denied before he could finish.

“We settled things with the bandits. Paid the toll, so passing through the mountain won’t be a problem. They’re quite worth the money. They’ve probably cleared out the wild beasts around here.”

That was a familiar setup.

‘Isn’t this just like those who clear the roads and charge for passage?’

After all, if the martial world has to watch out for the imperial family, bandits running wild would be suicidal.

No matter how much bandits practice martial arts, there are plenty in the martial world stronger than them. If they act recklessly, they’ll just become one-time mobs for the protagonist’s performance in a martial arts novel.

Accepting this, Namgung Woo decided not to argue against the common sense of this martial arts world.

“Then what’s the trouble?”

“Well, earlier I said people aren’t scary, right?”

“Yes, you did.”

“You might get to experience the most feared enemies on such journeys.”

The most feared enemies.

With the clue that they weren’t human, Namgung Woo could guess what they were.

Since the bandits had taken care of the wild beasts, there was only one thing left.

‘Are they here too?’

In games, they’re called monsters.

In Eastern terms, they’re called yokai.

Different from humans, unconditional enemies with whom you can’t communicate.

In a world where martial arts exist, in a world where supernatural powers are proven, monsters appearing isn’t strange.

“Not far from here, a Ghost Gate has opened.”

Pyeong Choyul’s voice, tinged with unease, didn’t faze Namgung Woo much.

After all, hunting monsters was Namgung Woo’s specialty.

‘Time to earn my keep.’

Finally, it was time to measure the strength of this world.